


A Knight By Her Side

by joufancyhuh



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A Story Within a Story, Coming to that sweet sweet gay realization, F/F, Friend Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/pseuds/joufancyhuh
Summary: Cassandra finds the book shelved in the library of Skyhold. There's no author or summary, but the title intrigues her enough that she starts to read it. Quickly, Cassandra gets swept up in the world of Princess Sophia and her loyal knight, Trystin; two women out to fix their country.But some of the characters start to seem a little too familiar. Cassandra goes on her own quest to find the author of the unfinished book, to figure out if the princess and the knight truly end up together. They have to, right?





	1. A Book Out Of Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Settiai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Settiai/gifts).



> I was super inspired by the prompt of "Cassandra realizing her sexuality through a book". And this is gonna get on the longer side, but I wanted to go ahead and post the first chapter, so the giftee knows they're not alone and that this treat is on its way. 
> 
> Thank you to Inquartata for being my sounding board, for betaing, and for loving Cassandra.

Cassandra discovered the book wedged between two copies of Philliam, a Bard!, sticking out while next to _A History Not Of Heroes_ and _The Folly and Other Whimsies_. The nondescript red spine trimmed in gold caught the attention of her wandering finger across the worn spines of the Skyhold library. She eased it out, turning it over in her hands as curiosity took ahold of her. There was no title on the leather-bound cover, no summary or indication as to what the book entailed. It appeared to be a journal shelved by mistake, but as she flipped open to the first page, gold script gleamed as the ink caught the remaining sunlight that poured through the Skyhold windows.

_A Knight By Her Side._

No author’s name was given, and she opened to the next page in search of a clue to the contents of the book. But, instead, she found Chapter One.

* * *

_Princess Sophia Andris of Tantervale wakes in a darkened cell of the dungeons._

_Trystin touches the sword on her belt as the princess nods to consciousness, the sword sheathed by ready for a quick withdrawal. She expects the captive princess to resist her the bondage at her ankles and wrists, and for a few seconds, Princess Sophia does while she struggles to place herself. Confusion marks her otherwise soft features, sleep in the corner of her eyes._

_As a knight in the King's service, Trystin prides herself on spotting guilt in a criminal. The princess, kneeling before the young knight, shows only the smallest flicker of fear, though her upbringing demands that she keeps her composure. Is the princess guilty of the crimes brought before her? For once, Trystin hesitates, though her rage assigns the princess guilt without bearing any proof._

_Princess Sophia licks her lips, dark emerald eyes flicking from Trystin to the blonde-haired royal adviser at the knight's side. "You wear my family crest, but have me bound, out of my bed in only a nightgown. Has there been a coup? Where are my parents? My brothers?"_

_Trystin remains at her post, allowing the royal adviser to step forward to answer the questions. Though the question was posed to her, it's not Trystin’s place to respond. Not that Trystin trusts herself to temper her tongue at that moment, her anguish at the night's events twisting her face into something of a snarl while she stares at the displaced princess beneath her helmet._

_"They're dead, your Highness." The adviser bows before her, though his marigold eyes regard her with suspicion, as do Trystin's own brown ones. Both search for that chink in her carefully crafted appearance, that broken facade that spoke of her guilt and part to play._

_Water rims Princess Sophia's eyes before spilling fat tears down her cheeks. "And you hold me prisoner while the murderer goes free? Are you both so incompetent that you might blame me for their deaths?" Her voice cracks while she speaks, and she stops to clear her throat several times while berating them._

_Trystin narrows her gaze under her helmet but the adviser bows again. "My apologies, Princess. Other members of the guard are searching the grounds for possible suspects, but as it remains, you are the one with the most to gain. And the only survivor, I might add."_

_"I loved them," her words strain as she breaks down into sobs, hanging her head to afford her little privacy. Trystin's stomach flips at the display, urging her to turn her back and allow the new orphan a pseudo-seclusion for the grief she struggles to manage. "Why would I kill them? A kingdom isn't worth their lives."_

_The adviser apologizes again, growing more uncomfortable with his ever-shifting position and the nervous wringing of his calloused hands. "We are only being thorough, your Highness. Until we have proof of your innocence, we cannot let you go free."_

_"I'm being framed, can't you see?" The Princess, wild-eyed, directs her plea to Trystin. "Please, I beg of you, let me go free. Let me find my family's murderers and bring them to justice."_

_It baffles Trystin that such a cry is directed to her when she simply follows orders given to her. The adviser glances behind him to where Trystin's hand falls away from her sword. She's not entirely sold on the innocence of the princess, but if the woman means to redeem herself, then why not let her? Though, what stops the princess from accusing anyone off the street and allowing them to take her place in the dungeon?_

_The adviser straightens his posture. "I will confer with the others and discuss how to settle this matter. In the meantime," the adviser turns to Trystin, "see that Princess Sophia is comfortable here, but remember her alleged crimes. She is not to go free until a decision has been reached."_

_Trystin nods, allowing the adviser to make his exit before kneeling beside the princess to undo the ties at her ankles. Princess Sophia remains watchful, bright eyes burning with tears still while she chews on her bottom lip. When Trystin pulls her up and escorts her into a nearby cell, there is no resistance, just those eyes that continue to stare._

_Trystin takes her station by the wall, granting her a clear view of the cell._

_"Did you see them?" Princess Sophia takes a seat in the hay that makes up a sorry excuse for a bed, drawing her knees to her chest. "Were they quick deaths?"_

_Trystin had, in fact, been at the scene of the King and Queen's murder, blood staining the pristine white of their bedspread, necks slashed, their hands attempting to cover the wound. In battle, it was considered a mercy kill. Would Princess Sophia know that? The Princes, too, laid in their quarters, done in with the same grotesque method. But the princess should know the scene well, had she killed them. But sitting on the floor of the cell, Princess Sophia didn't seem capable of killing anyone._

_"It was," Trystin murmurs._

_The princess nods, bound hands coming up to wipe away some of the dried tears on her cheeks. "Good. At the very least, I'm glad they didn't suffer. There are worse ways to go to the Maker's side."_

_"May I ask a question?" Trystin leans back against the wall, eyes trained on the princess' face for the response. "If you didn't kill them... why do you think you were spared?"_

_Princess Sophia sighs, burying her face between her knees. "I wish I knew," came the muffled reply, a gentle shaking to her shoulders signaling a fresh wave of tears._

* * *

 

Cassandra didn't realize she still stood by the bookshelf in the library until someone clapped a book closed right behind her. She spun, her face heated with embarrassment at being caught in such a position.

Dorian smirked, the book in his hands now tucked under one arm. "You'd think I was talking to myself these past few minutes. Find something good to read, Seeker?"

She snapped her own book closed, making a mental note that she’d left off at the end of Chapter One. Something familiar struck her about the young knight, Trystin, and the Princess Sophia, though she couldn't put her finger on it. Even the adviser reminded her of someone she knew, though the name lost itself in the recesses of her mind.

Dorian eyed the red leather book with curiosity, possibly wondering what could enrapture her so.

"It's nothing," she mumbled, moving the book to behind her back.

"That doesn't look like nothing," Dorian replied, trying to lean around her to gain a better look. When his attempts failed, he sighed. "At least let me borrow it when you finish."

She gave a curt nod before dashing away toward her room in the armory, eager to start the next chapter. As she descended down the staircase, she almost ran into the Inquisitor, who laughed and blinked back her surprise with vibrant green eyes. "Hello to you, too, Cassandra."

"Inquisitor! I was just, that is, I found—"

Trevelyan held up her hand to stop Cassandra's rambling. "It's... alright, Cass. I don't always need to know what you're up to."

Guilt flooded through the Seeker as the Inquisitor tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Ever since Trevelyan had confessed her feelings for Cassandra, things between them became muddled. Cassandra wanted to be around the other woman, but didn't know how to act. Trevelyan was better at not letting the rejection affect their relationship, more so than Cassandra. Whereas Cassandra once felt a calm around Trevelyan, now the sight of the dark-haired woman left her flustered.

"I was actually looking for you," Trevelyan's voice cut through the fog in Cassandra's brain. "We're heading out tonight for the Wastes. I thought I might grab a few extra books for you since you finished yours out on the field awfully fast last time."

Cassandra's cheeks mottled a deep shade of crimson as her eyes fell down to the book in her hands. "That is... considerate of you. Perhaps more so than I deserve."

The Inquisitor's smile faltered as she tucked a piece of thick dark hair behind her ears. "Should we—we're still friends, aren't we? I know I might have made things awkward, but I want you to know that I value your friendship just the same."

Why did Cassandra feel as though she said something wrong, as though she held herself at fault for not returning Trevelyan's feelings? Trevelyan was handling the rejection with better grace than Cassandra, even though her feelings were hurt. Why did it bother her so much then? But she was a professional and Corypheus didn't care if she no longer felt capable of serving under the Inquisitor. Deciding to focus her attentions away from the Inquisitor's uneasy smile and throw herself into battle and books, Cassandra swallowed the guilt in her throat and nodded. "Of course, Inquisitor. I... Your friendship means a lot to me."


	2. Cassandra Gets A Clue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, response on this fic has been nothing short of incredible, especially since this is just something silly and not a part of any of my main projects. 
> 
> But here's Chapter 2 at long last! What happens next? I don't know any more than you do! I'm hoping to churn more out faster so this can be done and off my large plate of WIPs.

The Wastes left little time for reading. The book wore itself in her bag, Cassandra often taking it out to thumb the pages, knowing that if she dared to crack it open again, no sleep would come to her that night. 

But then a day came at last when the group was halfway back to Skyhold that gave her a chance to pick it up again in earnest. The Inquisitor smiled as her eyes caught Cassandra’s over the firelight, Cassandra’s hands twiddling with the cover of the book again while it rested in her lap. “You know, you always have that book with you, but I’ve yet to see you read it. May I ask why?”

Cassandra’s cheeks heated, not from the radiance of the campfire, and her eyes cast down to where her thumb stroked the spine of the book. She wished for the others to return from their venture into town for supplies, so she wouldn’t be here alone with Trevelyan. “There are more pressing concerns than a book, and yet, I…” Her voice trailed off as she envisioned the noble knight Trystin and the Princess Sophia, whose stories yearned to unfold between the pages. 

When she glanced back to the Inquisitor’s face, whose soft green eyes sparkled in the firelight, Trevelyan continued to smile. “Take tonight off, Cass.” She rose, dusting off her backside from any clinging dirt from her log seat. “I’ll handle your half of the chores. Go read your book.” 

Cassandra jumped up in a panic. “Inquisitor, I couldn’t!”

“Don’t make me order you,” she replied, the smile on her face widening. “Take a night off. And then tell me what happened in your book tomorrow morning, if you don’t stay up all night with it.” 

The heat in her cheeks returned, this time traveling down to her chest as well. Her memory flashed to when the Inquisitor had caught her asleep at the table in the loft where she stayed, a book still in her hands. Tugging it away from her after making sure to save her place, Trevelyan had brought a pillow and blanket and tucked Cassandra in for the night. Cassandra had woken up halfway through, but Trevelyan had brushed her hair away from her forehead, telling her to go back to sleep. Since then, it had become a running joke of Trevelyan’s, teasing about Cassandra’s sleep habits when it came to a good book. And yet, here she enabled it. 

“I… Thank you, Inquisitor.” 

The smile that shone on Trevelyan’s face faltered at the mention of her title. How many times did she ask Cassandra to call her otherwise? But she kept quiet this time, only giving a curt nod. “Think nothing of it, Cass.” 

Cassandra sat back down, crossing her legs to hold the book open on her lap. The bookmark, made from various pressed flowers, a gift from the Inquisitor, marked her place in the book. Taking a deep breath in a feeble attempt to calm her racing heart, Cassandra began to read. 

* * *

_ The three advisers stand around, staring at their prisoner. “What choice do we have,” the dark-haired one asks, a rich Rivaini accent marking her the outsider of the trio. Trystin likes Asha best, the more practical of the advisers. “It’s our best option.” _

_ “So we simply let the prisoner go? No trial?” The blonde one from in the cells, Matthias, pounds his fists on the table to accentuate his point. “This is foolish.” _

_ Portia, the silent but deadly type, steps away from the shadows, uncrossing her arms to lean forward over the table they crowd around. The hood falls away from her face to reveal a gleam of crimson red hair, the color befitting a spymaster who deals in so much murder herself. “This is our  only option. Tantervale needs a ruler. It makes us appear weak if we go too long without one.”  _

_ “I’m not asking to be reinstated as royalty,” Princess Sophia begs of the group. “I never wanted that for my life. I’m only asking that you let me help clear my name and find my family’s murderer. Put someone else on the throne.” _

_ “And who says we should believe you?” Matthias glares hard at her, all murmurs silenced in his harsh accusation, but the Princess retains her composure, eye contact locked with her doubter. _

_ Trystin steps forward, in the path of Matthias’ wrath like a shield for her Princess. “I believe her.”  _

_ He throws his hands in the air before spinning around to address the wall. “Am I the only person who sees reason here?”  _

_ Asha taps her quill on the clipboard she carries to draw attention back to herself. “We’re getting nowhere bickering like this.” Her eyes sweep the room, coming to rest on the person at the center of the arguments. “You want to clear your name? Then help us find who did it. We,” she gestures to the three advisers, “can work to find the next person in line for the throne while the two of you,” she motions to Trystin, “work together to solve this gruesome murder.” Her attention then moves to Matthias. “Is that not an acceptable condition? You trust Ser Trystin, do you not?” _

_ Matthias grumbles with his arms crossed over his chest, but it sounds like approval to Trystin’s ears. A smile blossoms on Asha’s face. “Good. The two of you can leave tomorrow evening. I’ll put together supplies you’ll need for your investigations and Portia can make a list of possible suspects.”  _

_ The advisers excuse them, and as the Princess and Trystin step out the door, the Princess grabs her hand and pulls Trystin to the side, away from the earshot of the others. “I’m sorry you’re caught up in all this now, too.”  _

_ The Princess, with sparkling emerald eyes and bright pink cheeks, all but pushes herself into Trystin’s chest to whisper in her ear, “Do you mind… Could I stay with you tonight? I wouldn’t feel comfortable sleeping alone, not after… what happened.”  _

_ Trystin’s cheeks heat like burning coals, though she can’t determine what it is about the Princess that unnerves her so in that moment.  Is it rude to step away from her? The close proximity, she blames it on, pretending not to notice how even after a night in the dungeons, the Princess smells of crystal grace.  _

_ “Of course, Princess,” Trystin manages to get out, sounding much more confident than the stammering of her heart inside her chest.  _

_ The Princess backs away with a wide smile. “You can call me Sophia, if you wish.”  _

_ Trystin makes a note of that, but knows the name never to pass her lips.  _

* * *

The familiarity Cassandra felt in the first chapter grew tremendously by the time she finished the second, the light of the fire only raging because the Inquisitor kept it stoked for her. The chapter ended with Trystin laying on the floor of her room while Princess Sophia slept in her bed. And then the Princess, after Trystin wished her a goodnight: “I wish you would call me Sophia.”

_ How many times has the Inquisitor asked that of me?  _

 

 

 


End file.
